


Scared of the Dark

by zuli



Series: Scared of the Dark [1]
Category: EXO (Band), Kpop - Fandom
Genre: BaekLay, BaekXing, Laybaek, M/M, byunxing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:27:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8326054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuli/pseuds/zuli
Summary: Baekhyun and Yixing are almost friends...they have been for years, until Baekhyun's dark past comes back to haunt him and he needs Yixing more than he thought.





	1. Baekhyun

Baekhyun grabbed a piece of chicken off the grill, stuffing it into his mouth.

“Baekhyun!” his mother scolded. “Stop that.”

Baekhyun grinned at her and threw the skewer into the trash.

“Do your job and take these to the other stalls like you’re supposed to instead of eating all our stock.” She held out two black bags made of thick black plastic. Baekhyun grabbed them away from her.

“Okay mom! I’ll be back. Good luck!”

His mother waved him away. He ducked out of the tent, away from the steam and smell of cooking food, into the hot sun. He took off, weaving through the crowds of people, swinging his bags and singing along to a song he’d forgotten half of the words to.

He veered into another tent, similar to his parents’, only it was selling fruit instead of fried food. He nearly crashed into a small old lady and apologized to her profusely.

“Good afternoon Baekhyun,” said the man at the register.

“Hello sir, here’s your squid as always,” Baekhyun said brightly, pulling the first of the white boxes out of the bag and passing it over the counter. The man pushed a similar sized bundle of fruit in a mesh net in return.

“Tell your mom mangoes come in on Wednesday,” he said.

“Will do. She’ll be very excited.” Baekhyun threw the fruit into his bag, waving goodbye to the fruit man and running off through the market. This was what he did. Ever since he was a kid, he’d been running about the market, trading chicken and rice for napkins, fish for shoes, broccoli and shrimp for batteries, all sorts of things. He knew the market better than anyone. He knew what every stall sold, he knew the thieves, the homeless kids, the tourists, how fast fish spoils in hot weather, the names of all eight of the sisters of the woman who sold him glass plates.

For some reason, delivery had always been his job. Usually the jobs rotated among the family members, but his rotations with his brother lessened and lessened until he did it everyday.

Of course, he was older now. He lived on his own in a different part of the city. But he still helped at his parents’ stall regularly three times a week, and any other day he had time or felt like being a good son. He was the only one who had given up working the family stall and moved out. It was really hard, especially at first. His family could offer no financial support besides him moving back in the with them, which had been nearly forced to do on several occasions. But only actually done twice. Both times he played it off as a family visit.

But life was as good as it could be for a cute single guy working two jobs and living in a shitty one bedroom apartment.

Now, he was the only one in his family to move out and make his own way, but he knew everyone in this sweltering, crowded place, and he knew one other person whose hours were as irregular as his own.

It didn’t technically count as part of the market, because it was an actual shop in a building, as in, indoors, but it was right on the edge of the market, and he’d always thought of it as a sort of eccentric cousin; it was weird and different, but part of the family nonetheless. The tea shop was his last stop, and it was already getting dark as he approached.

Another boy was coming out of the shop, wheeling a turquoise bike with a wooden box strapped to the seat alongside him. He was older, with bold, symmetrical features, a strong nose, pretty lips, and when he genuinely smiled, probably the world’s deepest dimple. Baekhyun didn’t know how much older he was, sometimes he’d guess five years, when he had just come back from his office job and was dressed in his office suit with his hair styled away from his forehead. Sometimes, like now, with his silky black hair down over his forehead and wearing jeans and a large yellow sweater, he could say he was only one or two years older.

He’d appeared out of nowhere when Baekhyun was about eleven, speaking broken Korean and constantly looking lost and slightly afraid. They didn’t speak for a year, mostly because Baekhyun had immediately forgotten his name and just called him ‘tea boy.’ They were acquainted now, but not well. He could probably count the number of things he knew about him on one hand. Yixing the tea boy was the biggest mystery in the market, and it simultaneously frustrated and intrigued Baekhyun.

Yixing closed the door of the shop and turned his bike around. He stopped when he saw Baekhyun standing there. They were frozen like that for a moment before Yixing stepped forward. Baekhyun stood as still as a statue, and Yixing slowly walked by, passing him with a nod and a slight smile - not enough to see that dimple. And that was that. That’s how they spoke. Stares and smiles, ever since he was eleven.

Baekhyun opened the door Yixing had just closed and walked between the mostly empty benches to the window into the storeroom at the back of the shop. The tea shop did quite well, but it emptied out as darkness started to fall.

Baekhyun cleared his throat and pulled out the last white box.

“Oh Baekhyun, it’s you,” the elderly man who ran the shop said with a laugh, appearing from wherever he had been in that back room. “Yixing just left to take the tea to your parents,” he said.

“I saw him,” Baekhyun replied, tearing a hole in the netting around the fruit. He pulled an orange free and set it on the top of the box of food on the counter. The man smiled in that way Baekhyun always assumed was him thinking there was more between Baekhyun and Yixing, some strong friendship that they kept hidden around the adults. But there was no such thing. The oranges were the last remaining sign of a string of counters attempts on Baekhyun’s part to befriend the quiet boy. His efforts had never progressed their friendship in any way, and Yixing made no effort to reach out to Baekhyun. The only thing they ever shared, the only continuous connection acknowledging that they both knew of the other’s existence was the orange on top of the box of food, and a single cupcake on the counter by the tea in Baekhyun’s stall. For many years, he had never actually seen Yixing drop off the cupcake, but he knew them well, they sat beside him now in a little glass container. They were smaller than your average cupcake, each adorned with a different flower made of frosting. He’d only ever seen them sold here.

The man moved the orange from the box to the counter behind him, gently positioning it atop a neatly folded blue suit.

“‘I’ll see you on Wednesday,” the man said. Baekhyun nodded with his normal wide smile and left the shop.

When he made his way here, he walked down the center aisle of the market, as most people did. But on his way back, he walked, or rather, ran, along the edge of the market. He had started this habit soon after the cupcakes started to appear, always hoping to watch Yixing actually place the gift there. Sometimes he did, sometimes he didn’t. He always thought of it as a sign of good luck. When he could catch him doing it, he’d have a good day.

He took a deep breath and ran, glowing lights and and loud voices flashing past him, each breath coming with more difficulty than the last. He halted by the tent diagonally across from his. Yixing stood with his back to him, the bike leaning against his hip.

“Here, I’ll get you money for the extra,” his mom was saying.

“No ma’am. The extra tea is a gift from grandfather.”

“You two are always too generous,” she said with a smile. Baekhyun looked at the tea counter, there was no cupcake there. He moved to the side until he could see the plastic container in Yixing’s hands.

Usually he waited for the other boy to leave before he went back to the stall, but today he walked through the tents and around to the opposite side of the counter so he wouldn’t have to brush past Yixing. He set down his bags on the back counter and plopped onto a stool. Yixing quickly set the cupcake on the counter.

His brother was leaning against the front counter, looking particularly sassy. He moved his body in the way Baekhyun knew meant he was about to say something particularly cutting and weighted.

“My brother,” he began, drawing the attention of their mother and Yixing. “Has something to say to everyone. How come when the mysterious Zhang Yixing appears, he doesn’t speak a word? Do you not like nice people Baek?”

“If I liked people who weren’t nice that would mean I like you, and I don’t,” Baekhyun said sulkily. He knew his brother’s theory. He thought he and Yixing hated each other. And he’d always wanted to know why. Maybe nosiness ran in the family.

“He talks to me,” Yixing said, that mildly confused look back on his face.

His brother snorted. “Sure he does. You don’t understand Yixing, he usually never shuts up.”

“I have to go,” Baekhyun said. He grabbed the cupcake, momentarily meeting Yixing’s dark eyes. “Tell dad I hope he feels better. I’ll see you on Wednesday.” He left in a hurry, before anyone, especially his brother, could say something else.

He made his way home, down increasingly dark and narrow streets.

Baekhyun had always hated the dark, a dislike which had become a fear in the past few years. He always prayed the orangie-yellow lights lighting the street wouldn’t flicker and go out.

He ran up the creaky, green lit stairs of his apartment building. The stairs were lit green by the neon sign outside that read ‘liquor.’ It wasn’t actually bad. It lit the otherwise dim landing where Baekhyun had to fit the key into the lock in his door, and jiggle it because everything in the building was just a little broken.

You could still see the neon green in his room, falling in glowing stripes across his unmade bed and up the opposite wall. He preferred this sign to the neon lights he was used to, and it didn’t keep him awake because he was always dead tired when he got home, and there were many nights hen he didn’t get back until the sun was rising and the light had already turned off.

He took his phone out of his pocket, putting on a quiet song and pulling off his pants. He ate his cupcake as he shimmied into tight leather pants and a t-shirt that fit his frame well. He listened to two more songs as he put on make up, calmly and confidently even in the dark.

He’d only just finished his cupcake, and the third song, when he was ready to go. The routine had made him more skilled at the dark, smokey eyeshadow than his mother had ever been. He’d done her make up once, saying his skill must have to do with the artistic talent he’d shown as a kid. Really it was just experience.  
He brushed his teeth quickly, kicking his discarded clothes closer to the bed, and left his house again, walking down a maze of even darker and narrower streets, toward the job that actually kept him housed and fed.


	2. Yixing

Yixing always rode his bike home along the canal, but sometimes, if he knew he didn’t have to wake up too early in the morning, he’d wander about different parts of the city, slowly eating his orange and getting more and more lost in thought.

Today was one of those days. He didn’t have to be in the office until the afternoon, so he just walked to the soft ticking sound of the bike.

The sky was lightening to a dark, brooding grey. He’d been walking all night, and his legs hurt, both from the exercise and the biting chill in the air. He could see the faint puff of his breath in the air when he breathed.

He enjoyed the silence and solitude, something he got very little of at work.

Except it wasn’t solitude. A dull clunking had joined the click of his spinning bike wheel, and, though dim, he saw the slightly shorter figure coming toward him, head down, wearing a t-shirt despite the cold.

It couldn’t be much later than 5am, why would someone be walking around like this so early?

The figure looked up and stopped, a few feet away, the sound of his boots stopping along with the sound of Yixing’s bike.

Yixing’s stomach lurched as he met Baekhyun’s eyes; they looked much lighter compared to that dark eyeshadow. He instinctively looked down to avoid the eye contact, and had to lower his eyes even further when he found himself staring at the leather pants stretched tightly across Baekhyun’s hips. He settled on examining his black boots, feeling he somehow wasn’t meant to have seen that skin tight leather.

But the boots moved toward him, until Baekhyun and Yixing were separated only by an old teal bike.

Yixing looked back up into the boy’s face, noticing with slight discomfort that his fluffy chestnut hair was in complete disarray. He also noticed, with equal discomfort, that the direction he was walking from was a part of the city that even Yixing’s walks didn’t cover.

“Hey there tea boy,” Baekhyun said, his voice slightly hoarse, making Yixing’s chest tighten. 

“What were you doing in the pleasure district?” he asked slowly.

Baekhyun’s face fell. Yixing tried not to think of Baekhyun going and spending all his money on girls, but that was all his brain seemed to want to tell him. Or even worse…

“Well, unlike you, with your nice office job letting you live comfortably, I’ve got to do a bit more to get by.” He laughed, and for a jarring moment Yixing was reminded of the shorter, chubbier, teenage Baekhyun he had met when he first arrived, scared and alone, from China. He hadn’t really thought about how that boy had thinned out and grown taller and become devilishly attractive...he would be quite desirable...desirable enough…?

“You mean…?” he began, his voice hushed.

Baekhyun leaned in slightly. “You’re a businessman, Xing, you must know how much businessmen love an easy girl to call up whenever they feel lonely or stressed…” Baekhyun seemed to want him to answer, but Yixing, as always, had nothing to say. Not to mention, he suddenly felt slightly sick. “Well,” Baekhyun continued, fully aware Yixing wasn’t going to answer. “Some of those businessmen happen to prefer boys.”

Yes. Baekhyun was certainly desirable enough for someone to pay a price for his exclusive attention. It wasn’t something Yixing had ever considered, all he knew as the cheerful boy who ran about the market like a kid, helping out his parents. He knew Baekhyun had another job, he just didn’t think it was this.

“Well?” Baekhyun rocked back on his heels. “Are you disgusted? Intrigued? Do you hate me a little more now?”

Yixing frowned. “I don’t hate you, Baekhyun.”

Baekhyun stilled, blinking once, the confident and cocky behavior momentarily destroyed, leaving only the normal Baekhyun behind. Then he began rocking again, bringing himself close to Yixing’s face.

“You know, you could have me too,” he said slyly. He leaned in steadily closer, but Yixing made no move toward or away from him. Baekhyun halted inches from his lips, his eyes travelling about Yixing’s face. His heart pounded in his ears, but Baekhyun wouldn’t know that.

Baekhyun pulled away, playing with his fingernails. “Then again, you don’t necessarily like boys. Even if you do, you wouldn’t necessarily like me.”

“I’m not disgusted.” Baekhyun’s eyes flickered up to meet his. “I’m surprised, but I don’t view you any differently.”

Baekhyun swallowed. “You should. Every night I put on these clothes and I get on my knees in front of some man who sees me as an item, an item he can pay to have for a night to forget that he doesn’t have anyone to go home to, or he does but it’s someone he hates, and their relationship will fall apart when they discover those late nights at the office were really late nights in an expensive hotel room, fucking a boy who thought he could move out of his parents’ house and become an artist or a singer, but actually had his whole innocence destroyed at fifteen over such a small thing as money.” He looked away, hiding the tears forming in his eyes. “It disgusts me.”

Yixing stared at the boy biting his lip and gently leaned his bike down to the ground, stepping over it to pull Baekhyun into a hug.

Baekhyun squeezed him tightly. 

“It doesn’t matter what you’re doing to get by. All that matters is you’re Baekhyun.”

He pushed him away, suddenly thinking of what little he knew about the pleasure district from the news.

“Has anyone ever hurt you?” he asked.

His heart sank as Baekhyun’s bitter laugh gave the answer.

“Oh yes,” he said. “But the worst…” his expression grew dark and his brow furrowed. He shook his head and smiled. “It’s kinda part of the job.”

“Aren’t there rules?” Yixing asked, feeling unwanted anger bubbling inside him.

“Well, there are. The place you work for usually has a set of guidelines that customers are meant to follow. If they break the rules, they’re banned. But for the right price, they can really do whatever they want.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It’s worse for the girls than it is for me. I’m more expensive, as I’m the only boy. But you’d still be surprised how much people will pay to be able to do what they want.” He looked down at the water in the canal beside them. “I’m sorry, could we change the subject?”

“Sure,” Yixing picked up his bike. “It’s not safe around here. I’ll walk you home.”

Baekhyun didn’t seem excited by the idea, but he didn’t protest, walking beside him silently.

“Why do you still help your grandfather at the tea shop when you’ve got your fancy company job?”

“Oh, he’s not my grandfather,” Yixing chuckled. “I just call him that. He let me stay with him when I first came here from China in exchange for working a bit in the shop. I really owe him a lot. I probably wouldn’t have made it without him.”

“Why’d you come here? Couldn’t you work in China?”

Yixing sighed. “My parents said I’d have better opportunities here.”

“And did you?” Baekhyun looked at him expectantly.

“I guess. I’m happy enough, but I was only twelve when I came here. It was hard to know what to do at that age.”

After all this time to think about it, it seemed more and more to Yixing like his parents just didn’t want him around anymore. Why else would they send him to a different country just for ‘better opportunities.’

“Yixing,” Baekhyun said. “I’ve known you for nine years and I never knew how old you were.”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you?” Yixing tried to remember telling him. He’d sworn he had.

“Um, I don’t know if you know this, but you’ve never told me anything about you. Even your name. My mom had to tell me about 18 times. She was scared I’d call you tea boy and upset you.”

“I don’t mind being called tea boy. What was the other thing you used to say?”

“Teaxing,” Baekhyun said immediately. 

“Right, and I called you Byunny.”

“Really?” Baekhyun looked at him with wide eyes.

“Yeah, you remind me of a bunny. I drew a picture of you as a bunny once a long time ago and Grandfather hung it on the wall in the shop. I tore it down.”

Baekhyun smiled. “That’s smart, I would have hit you.”

“I deserved it. I’m not a very good friend.”

“Are we friends?” Baekhyun asked.

“I thought so. I don’t have anyone else.”

Baekhyun punched his arm. “Then why don’t you ever talk to me?”

“I do!” Yixing insisted.

“‘Hi,’ ‘Good morning,’ ‘Good afternoon,’ ‘Good night.’ What kind of conversation is that?”

“I don’t talk much to anyone. I wouldn’t mind if you just talked and I listened, like you normally do. But you never do that with me.”

“If there’s one thing I can do, it’s talk. But you have to promise me you’ll talk too. What we’ve got going on right now is good. Keep that up.”

Baekhyun stopped beside a liquor store on the corner of the street they were on and a small side street, too narrow to fit a car.

“Okay, I promise I’ll talk more. We’re friends now, right?”

Baekhyun smiled broadly. “Right!” He scampered a little way down the alley and paused beside a door. “You better not forget. And don’t say anything about what I do to my parents.”

“Of course,” Yixing said. Baekhyun opened the door and disappeared inside. 

Yixing turned back to the empty street. Maybe he didn’t mind a little company.


	3. Baekhyun

Baekhyun went to work early the next day. He sat with Lisa, the lady who ran the brothel. She was middle aged, but you could still tell she had once been quite beautiful. She was half Vietnamese, half Australian. Who knew what led her here, to run a sex company in a foreign country.

She was nice enough, though she had to a have a big mean streak to take care of her workers. He’d seen her knock a guy twice her size to the ground. She had a strong non-violence policy, but she did use it when she had to. 

She wouldn’t say a word about her past, but there were many rumors, the most popular being that she killed her husband and moved here to escape the cops. Baekhyun didn’t really believe that, but he had no evidence for or against it.

It was light out, though sundown would be coming soon, and hardly anyone came in at this time. They usually just made the beds, dealt with laundry, money and checking client’s payments.

But Baekhyun had finished all his work, and was sitting with his chin on the front desk beside Lisa, who was figuring out money.

The place was set up pretty much like a hotel. They had a reception area, some rooms upstairs where clients could take their choice of partner. For a much higher price they could call in and meet up with them somewhere else, usually their apartment or some lofty hotel room. The client had to check in, under any symbol, number or name they wished. Lisa was fantastic with faces and numbers. She kept track of what guy had taken who and for how long. She almost always kept them safe. There had never been a girl who was hurt or killed inside her hotel, which was unfortunately an uncommon thing to be able to claim. However, when the customer called them away, it was hard for Lisa to keep track of them or protect them. They brought their phones, but still, the danger went up. Only one girl had ever died, she’d fallen down 19 stories and splatted on the ground. It was unclear if she had jumped or been pushed. The news said suicide, Lisa said murder.

Lisa was smarter after that. Baekhyun’s incident had been the next big emergency. He’d managed to get away, and Lisa kept him off of call duty for many months. He’d only recently started going out again, though Lisa didn’t particularly like it. He didn’t either, but he had bills to pay, and so did Lisa.

“Baekhyun, stop sighing like that. I’m trying to keep track of decimals and you’re making it quite hard,” Lisa said.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize.” He watched the repeating string of words streaming beneath the news anchor on the television screen. He’d seen it repeat at least a dozen times now.

“Baekhyun,” Lisa said warningly, adjusting her circular golden glasses.

“I swear I’m not trying to.”

“Well stop thinking about whatever you’re thinking about. If you’re bored, you can go vacuum.”

“I’m not sure what I was thinking about,” he said honestly.

A girl in a short lacy black dress pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her smooth black hair hung in a long ponytail down her back.

“Mina!” Baekhyun cried. Mina put her hands on her hips.

“Lisa, are you torturing our poor puppy again? You know he can’t sit still.”

“I told him he can go vacuum,” Lisa replied, her voice flat.

“We can vacuum anytime. I was just coming to see if you wanted coffee. Do you want to come with me, Baek?”

Baekhyun jumped up, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Vanilla latte, no foam,” Lisa said. Mina nodded, though she already knew the order by heart. She held the door open and Baekhyun slipped outside. She followed, and they walked side by side down the street, toward the canal.

“I can’t stand Lisa when she’s taking care of money,” Mina said.

“I know,” Baekhyun laughed in agreement. 

“Why are you even here so early?”

“I didn’t feel like being home,” Baekhyun sighed. He’d laid in bed for two hours, drifting in and out of sleep and staring at the ceiling. He had started to feel like he was going crazy, so he just got dressed and went to work. 

“Makes sense. It’s not a very nice day anyway. There’s nothing much else to do.” 

Baekhyun looked at the dark sky, it would probably rain later. He hadn’t really considered it. He was out of it today. He was spacey and slow to react, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. He wasn’t often like this.

They crossed the bridge over the canal and went into the coffee shop on the other side. If this shop wasn’t so used to it, it might have seemed weird to see a girl wearing nothing but a skimpy black dress and a boy wearing more makeup than she was enter to order coffee. But no one who worked there cared. That was what most of their customers looked like.

A TV in the corner was playing the same news station Baekhyun had been watching before.

“What do you want, Baek?”

“Just an iced mocha or something is fine. Also that new girl Lulu was there, should we get her something?”

“Do you know what she would want?”

Baekhyun thought. He hadn’t spoken to her yet. All most of them knew about her was she had locked herself in one of the rooms and sobbed until Lisa brought out the master key and broke in. They’d all taken turns sitting with her, but she wouldn’t talk to them and didn’t calm down for hours.

“Chai,” he decided.

“How’d you know?”

“She just gave off the chai vibe,” he shrugged.

“Is it because she has bleached hair?” Mina asked with a smile.

“...oh.” Baekhyun laughed. She did look like a chai.

Mina ordered and paid. She always treated them. Baekhyun thought she felt like the other five girls and himself were her children. She was the mom, second only to Lisa.  
They waited by the counter, the two baristas talking as one made the drinks.

There was a long beeping sound, and the TV screen turned into a mess of static.

Baekhyun jumped, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He grabbed Mina’s arm, his eyes glued to the screen.

“I thought we were done with you,” she hissed at the TV.

It felt like his whole body was going cold, the warm blood being replaced by slow, chilled blood, his brain freezing with panic.

“What’s wrong with that damn thing?” one of the baristas said in annoyance, trying to change the channel on the remote.

“Check your phone,” Mina whispered.

Baekhyun pulled out his phone with shaking fingers. It was black, but as he held it in his hand a message appeared, and Baekhyun promptly dropped the phone, clinging even harder to Mina’s arm, as if that could help him.

Mina knelt down and picked up the phone. “‘Hello again’,” she read.

Baekhyun let her go and backed against the wall, feeling like his knees might collapse.

“Come on, let’s get you back to Lisa.” Mina shoved the phone into his hands, picked up the drinks, and herded him out of the shop, back to the hotel. He collapsed as soon as he entered.

“What’s going on?” Lisa demanded.

Mina handed her Baekhyun’s phone. Lisa’s face paled and she looked at Baekhyun with fear in her eyes. 

It’s okay Baekhyun, he won’t find you now. 

“Baekhyun,” she said calmly. “Baekhyun honey, don’t worry. Mina help him will you?”

It’s over now, he won’t find you again.

Mina knelt beside him, taking his hand and trying to look into his blank eyes. “It’s okay sweetie, he’s not going to get you, we’re all here.”

“That’s what you said last time,” he said quietly. 

Mina grimaced.

“Don’t blame her. Baekhyun listen to me, you have to go home tonight. This is the only place he can still trace to you. You’ve got a new place to live, and he won’t know where that is. Go home, and don’t answer your phone, unless it’s me. Call if you have an emergency, okay?”

Baekhyun nodded, Mina pulling him to his feet. She disappeared, reappearing with a black hoodie. Baekhyun pulled it on, hiding his face as best he could with the hood.   
Lisa handed him his phone.

“Are you okay walking back alone?”

“Yes,” Baekhyun said. “H-he always waited. One thing every day. I don’t think he’ll come here tonight.”

“You’re not coming back to work until he gives up.”

Baekhyun looked at Lisa through the tears in his eyes. “I don’t think he’s ever going to give up.”

Mina pulled him into a hug. “Call me if you’re scared.”

Baekhyun nodded and shoved his shaking hands into his pockets. He stepped back outside, the world suddenly terrifying and dangerous. He tried to convince himself that it would be hard to tell who he was as he walked down the road with his head down.

But he knew that there were ways to distinguish him besides his face, and if the man saw him, he’d recognize him instantly. Maybe he had already seen him, and was even following him at this very moment.

He had been a fool to think it was over. He’d told him countless times, his voice dark and serious, “you’re mine, forever.” 

Baekhyun the wiped tears off his cheeks, quickening his pace. He was running by the time he got to his street, running up the stairs, dropping his keys in his haste to open the door.  
He lay down on his bed, under the covers, his heart pounding as he strained to hear any sound, expecting footsteps to slowly pound their way up the stairs at any moment.

All the lights were on, but he still thought about his closet, his bathroom, both doors closed. He got up and braced himself, pulling open the bathroom door. The room was empty. So was the closet.

He ran back to bed, scooting to the center of the bed, like a child afraid of monsters.

But he had made it. His heart rate was slowing. Lisa was right, he didn’t know where he lived now. He was safe here.

His phone lit up beside him. He didn’t want to look at it. He had almost convinced himself.

He picked up the phone. Unknown number.

‘Still scared of the dark?’

As soon as he finished reading it, all the lights went out. Baekhyun screamed, bolting to the door. He pulled it open and rushed down the stairs, into the alley way. He paused for a moment, but he saw the flickering of the green neon sign. It went out, and the lights in the alley started to follow suite. He ran, darkness following behind him. He couldn’t stop from crying now, crying and running with all his might. Rain started to fall as he ran across one of the many bridges across the canal, heading to the fancier side of town with only a very faint and distant idea of where he was going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UmmMMMMmmm I just watched lose control???? This chapter has no Yixing in it but I had to mention it cuz oH my gOd!?!? It's amazing I'm so shook imagine being a xingmi right now....wow.


	4. Yixing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lol it's been 84 years huh? I've been wanting to update for a while but i was too lazy to read through the chapter I wanted to publish. But here it is! (damn I love being...the only baekxing shipper.....it's fine)

Yixing got home later than he had expected. It turned out he had a bit more to do at work than he thought.

He walked up the stairs to his apartment, readying his key to unlock the door. He paused on the top step. Baekhyun was sitting with his head leaning against his door, his legs curled up close to him, his hair and clothes soaking wet. His eyes were closed, his brows furrowed, his fingers curled into his own hoodie.

Yixing put down his briefcase and knelt beside him. He gently shook Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun started, falling slightly backward and looking at him in panic. His eyes were red and puffy, little patchy spots of red around his eyes showing he’d been crying heavily. He relaxed, looking relieved, and threw his arms around Yixing’s neck.

“I thought I got the wrong place,” he cried. “I thought you weren’t gonna come home or you didn’t live in this room or even this floor and I was in totally the wrong building and someone was gonna come kick me out or arrest me or something.”

“No, it’s okay, this is where I live. But what are you doing here?”

Baekhyun released him suddenly, shyly looking down at the ground.

“Can I...stay with you? I don’t know where else to go, and I needed to leave right away. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I can pay you a little bit. Not much, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you out. I’ll cook or clean or anything...just please let me stay.”

“Wait, slow down,” Yixing said, trying to understand his jumbled words. “Sure you can stay here. You don’t have to pay me. What’s going on? Why were you crying? Why can’t you go home?”

Baekhyun stared at him for a moment before tears filled his eyes and he hid his face in his hands, crying.

Yixing took his arm and gently pulled him to his feet. He unlocked his door and led Baekhyun inside. He turned on all the lights and put his stuff down, peeling off his coat. 

He pulled Baekhyun into the bedroom and left him standing by the door. He pulled out pajamas for him and left them on the bed.

“You can get changed and sleep in here,” he said gently. Baekhyun wiped his eyes and looked at him, surprised.

“What about you?”

“I’ll sleep on the couch. It’s really quite comfortable.”

“I can’t take your bed.” Baekhyun looked at the plain white bed like it was the bed of a king. 

“Really, sleep here. You were outside in those wet clothes for who knows how long. You’ll get sick if you don’t dry off and warm up and rest. I’m going to be awake for a little bit, and I’d keep you awake if you slept in the living room anyway.”

“Okay…” Baekhyun said doubtfully.

“Sleep well Baekhyun.”

Yixing started to walk out. 

“Thank you Yixing. I really can’t thank you enough.”

“No problem,” Yixing said with a smile. He backed out of the room and closed the door. He took the cushions off of his couch, pulling out the folding bed and hunting down some extra blankets and pillows. 

He sat on the bed, pulling out his computer and finishing up some work, laying stretched out in his white dress shirt and gray suit pants. 

He glanced at the bottom of the bedroom door occasionally, waiting to see if the light would go out. But yellow light streamed out under the door, though Baekhyun made no noise. 

Yixing worked until his breaks started growing longer than the time he was working. He rubbed his eyes and closed the computer. 

He pulled out the sweatpants and shirt he brought to work in case he couldn’t make it home and sleepily climbed into them. He turned off all the lights as best he could, though there were still those little glowing lights on the microwave and oven that suddenly seemed like beacons in the dark. 

He crawled under the blankets and closed his eyes. He was tired, and he knew it would be easy to sleep. But he wasn’t sure if he had slept or if he had just closed his eyes when he opened them again, a puddle of light falling right across his face.

He sat up, his mind foggy. Baekhyun was peaking around the bedroom door, holding a blanket in his hand. 

“What’s wrong?” Yixing asked, his voice raspy from sleep. 

Baekhyun stared at him without speaking, and Yixing almost thought he wasn’t going to say anything. Was he imagining this right now? Was it a dream?

“Can...you come sleep with me?” He asked, his voice so quiet that Yixing almost thought he hadn’t even spoken. “I’m scared.”

“Oh...” Yixing sat up, running a hand through his messy hair. “Uh, sure.” He got to his feet, stumbling slightly as he untangled himself from the blankets. He walked along the line of light shed through the slightly opened door. 

“I’m sorry I’m just not really sleeping. I’d feel safer if I was with someone.”

“It’s fine,” Yixing said, rubbing his eye.

Baekhyun opened the door wider, revealing his full body. He seemed to have abandoned the pants, and just wore his boxers under Yixing’s shirt, which was a little too big for him, but not overwhelmingly so. Half of his hair stuck up, probably where he’d had his head on the pillow. 

Baekhyun climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up just over his face, curling up on his side.

Yixing walked around the other side of the bed, sitting down and reaching over to turn out the light.

“Don’t turn it off,” Baekhyun said in panic. “I’m scared of the dark.”

“Alright.”

Yixing lay facing away from Baekhyun, staring at the light for a few minutes. He felt an odd connection with Baekhyun in that time, both of them awake but neither speaking. Baekhyun had just completely humanized himself in Yixing’s eyes. He never would have thought Baekhyun was scared of the dark, he didn’t seem like someone who would even realize that darkness had fallen. But he was, and he’d shown no hesitation telling this to Yixing. He wondered if he was thinking about it too, perhaps worrying about what Yixing thought. He thought about telling him he didn’t care, everyone had weaknesses. Maybe he should tell him that he was scared of pigeons.

But he just closed his eyes, smiling a little as he turned his face away from the light.

❈

Yixing woke to a scream. He sat up, his heart pounding, Baekhyun flailing beside him, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead, his breathing fast and shallow. Yixing grabbed Baekhyun’s wrists, trying to wake him and simultaneously stop his thrashing.

Baekhyun’s eyes flew open, and he looked around in panic. He stared at Yixing’s face for a long time before he saw the glimmer of recognition.

“Are you okay?” Yixing asked, letting go of his wrists.

“A dream,” Baekhyun whispered, screwing his eyes shut. “A dream.”

“What did you dream about?”

Baekhyun shook his head, his eyes still closed. “I can’t.”

“There’s nothing I can do to help unless I know what’s wrong.”

Baekhyun opened his eyes and looked at him, and Yixing was surprised to see a tear slip down his cheek. “It’s not that I don’t trust you...I want to tell you. I know I’ve just shown up out of nowhere and asked to stay here with no explanation why or for how long, but I can’t imagine what you’d think if I told you...it’s not a pretty story and it’s not easy for me to say. And it won’t make any difference if you know or not, there’s nothing you can do to help me, other than perhaps delaying my fate a little longer.”  
Yixing nodded. “You don’t have to tell me, but I want to know, if it’s something you want to say.” 

Baekhyun sat up, running his long fingers through his hair. “You deserve an explanation...but I’m worried you’ll think badly of me. And besides that, you could be in danger.”

“It’s okay.”

Baekhyun nodded, turning his body to face him. “Then I’ll tell you.”


	5. Baekhyun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAD NO IDEA I STOPPED AFTER CHAPTER 4 oh my god I literally have 10 chapters of this done???? Please comment if u want me to keep updating lol I haven't written any new stuff for a while but I really enjoyed this story so I am more than happy continuing it, as long as people wanna read it!

Yixing watched him with no idea what Baekhyun was about to say to him. No idea that he was about to see this person who he only barely knew falling apart before his eyes. Baekhyun prepared to talk, opening his mouth, but trying to put it into words felt something like choking, his throat closing and his lungs clenching, his stomach twisting with that familiar feeling of nausea that would never lead to vomiting, just sit in his gut for hours until it finally faded, just like those early hours of the morning when he sat hunched over a toilet, unable to throw up, the same images spinning around in his mind again and again like a hellish merry-go-round.

He took a deep breath and tried again, thinking out his first words carefully.

Yixing sat across from him patiently, not interrupting or asking what he was doing or even looking annoyed. 

“You asked if I’ve ever been hurt,” Baekhyun said slowly. “I think you can guess somewhat the theme of this story. Yes, abuse is quite common among sex workers. As I said, it’s part of the job. But I wasn’t really hurt for a while. The first three years were fine. I went about my job, I was paid and I went home unharmed. I got cocky, I thought I wouldn’t get hurt. I thought somehow I was different. Then when I was 18, someone hit me for the first time. That was when I realized I wasn’t invincible. But I was still stupid. I never saw the guy again, and I thought it would be a one off. 

“The year after that, there was a man who hired me once, then again, then again and again and again. I didn’t think he’d be any different from other regular customers, even though I always got a bit of a weird vibe from him. He started seeing me at least once a week. He must have paid a fortune, he’d take me out for multiple days sometimes. This went on for about a year, probably something around nine months. Then I started to realize there was something I didn’t like about him at all...he was very interested in other clients I had. He wanted to know all sorts of things about them; how many regular customers I had, how often they met me, where they’d take me. Then he started saying things like he owned me, or I belonged to him, or how he didn’t like me meeting other customers more than once. He’d take me to more and more extravagant places, calling up and asking if I could meet him way in advance. Lisa, my boss, warned me that she didn’t like this behavior...but I insisted it was okay. I was making regular money, and I liked not worrying about paying rent or buying food.

“But suddenly, the place I was living in decided to kick me out, and somehow he knew about it. He offered for me to stay with him. I refused for a while and stayed with my parents, looking for another place to live. But everywhere I found denied me, giving me all sorts of weird reasons why I couldn’t live in their building. I didn’t want my parents to find out what was going on, or that I had been kicked out of my apartment, so I stayed with him. I stayed with him for five months. He acted exactly the same when I first moved in, but he started getting a little too protective, and a little too demanding. He’d force me to sleep with him, even after I had just gotten home from work or said I absolutely would not. He told me I would be homeless if it weren’t for him, and he’d make sure I never found a place to stay again if I denied him. Then he started telling me to quit work. He said that I was his and other people shouldn’t be allowed to have me, or even see me, unless he knew about it and allowed it. I knew by this point that he was crazy, and I was in danger, but he threatened me, he threatened my family. 

“Lisa and another girl I work with tried to help me, but they suddenly stopped contacting me. Them trying to taking me away from him meant they were in danger. It seemed like he knew everyone I knew, and threatened me with all of them. I tried to run away a few times, but pictures would start showing up at the door at work, which is where I went when I got away from him. He’d send me pictures of my parents, my brother, their house, pictures of Lisa and her house, increasingly intruding and terrifying pictures until I went back to him to save them. It was after the second time I ran away that he first beat me. I really thought I was going to die that night. I screamed until I lost my voice, and he hit me until I passed out. Even then I’m not sure he stopped…”

He paused, looking into the lamp behind Yixing. Memories spilled into his mind like a raging flood of water, that man closing the door, Baekhyun curling up on the floor as the lights cut, his eyes straining to adjust to the darkness, a punch coming out of nowhere, followed by countless more. Baekhyun crying on the floor, his only awareness of the world his own strained voice and the continuous pain of the beating in the dark. The deep stormy bruises all over his body, weeks without setting foot out of the house, those cold eyes looking at him, staring into him, making him want to curl up and hide, but no matter what he did, he ‘d be found, and he’d be beaten…

“I had just turned twenty then. For the last three weeks I lived with him, I wasn’t allowed to leave his apartment. I couldn’t even go out into the hallway. All I knew were those three rooms, my only contact with the outside world was through television. He beat me daily, I really think in the end he just enjoyed it. He said it was because I had disobeyed him, but he would have done it even if I sat in one place without moving a muscle the whole day. He just loved hurting me. I woke up one day...I’d blacked out from him hitting me and I woke up the next day naked in bed. He was at work. That happened more than once, but this time I just cried. I cried for hours, running to the bathroom to throw up, seeing myself bruised and broken in the mirror, feeling like I was somewhere between life and death. If I stayed there one more day, I might have actually died. 

“I got dressed and I broke down the door. I walked out of the building, looking like I’d been in a car crash, I walked all the way to work. Lisa locked me in a room and said if he came she’d call the police and tell them everything. I had just been locked in a small space for three weeks, only to be locked in another.”

The TV in that room was insane. That was what he had first noticed. Baekhyun kept the news on while he slept; he liked having the sound of someone, even a reporter, talking to him. He hated the feeling of being alone. He hated being in a room with only his thoughts. Yeah, he visited. He actually broke down their front door. Lisa called the police, and they took that man in. They questioned him and they let him go. They believed him and trusted him. All they had was the word of a woman who didn’t exist according to their records to say that this rich and important man had beaten a young call boy half to death.

Oh yeah, they got Baekhyun’s story. The policeman sat on the floor and asked him questions, writing all the answers down. But apparently, once that officer left the room, Baekhyun and his statements suddenly, magically, disappeared.

But the man stopped visiting. And the television set broke. It played static. It was frozen on one channel, and played endless, droning static. Baekhyun didn’t realize then that it was a message. 'I’m still here and I know exactly where you are.' He figured that out soon enough, and at about the same time, he had gone days without sleep, because sleep brought clear memories of that man and his face, his voice, his sickening and heavy presence in a room. He realized during that week, locked in room four of a small brothel on the outskirts of Seoul, that not sleeping still brought the man back to him, only this time, they were hallucinations.

He kept the door locked. He kept it locked all the time for two reasons. The first was that a locked door kept him protected from people trying to get in. The second was that the sound of a locking door brought flashbacks, and he wanted to avoid that as best he could. So he had locked the door once, and only unlocked it again when he really needed to.  
Hallucinations can get in through a locked door. They could get in anywhere Baekhyun was. 

The third day without sleep made the wall start to move. The wall moved, and he thought he saw figures in the corner of his eye. The static on the TV slowly morphed into whispering voices.

On the fourth day, the whispering became his voice, and he told him he was coming, over and over until Baekhyun wanted to smash the TV to pieces.

But it was on the fifth day, that it was actually him. There was nothing about his body he’d ever forget, and it was all too easy for his brain to summon him up, completely accurate, standing in the shadows of the bathroom, his eyes hidden behind the glare of his glasses, his hair flopping onto his forehead on one side.

He screamed, he thought he was really there. He’d got in and he was walking towards him and he’d probably kill him this time, it had been too many days since he hit him, beating him and fucking him wouldn’t be enough, he’d actually just kill him.

He’d screamed so much Mina broke down the door. It was after that he had been terrified of sleeping and staying awake. He stayed awake until he was too tired to move, then he’d take a sleeping pill and drift away into a muddy sleep without dreams, and wake up just as tired as he had been before. But that kept the dreams away, and kept the hallucinations from getting too bad...for the most part.

“He disappeared for a while. I’m not sure why. He has this thing he does, he can hack into electrical devices or something. He’s actually incredibly smart. He makes TVs only play static, he can send messages without knowing your number, he can somehow, always, find the room I’m in and make the devices go crazy. It feels like he’s found me, he knows exactly where I am and he’s about to come in and...but he doesn’t always know. I don’t know how he can make a TV do something without knowing where it is, but it’s terrifying. And he’s back now. I saw that fucking static again for the first time in a year and he’s probably already gathering information bit by bit.” That was the game they played. He pieced together pieces of the puzzle that would be a map leading him to Baekhyun, and Baekhyun tried his best to mess up the map, make it lead somewhere he couldn’t connect to Baekhyun. But he was smarter, and so far, he’d won.

“How can we stop him from finding you?” Yixing asks. Baekhyun laughs.

“You could ask someone on the street and they’d be able to come up with a better idea than me. I have no clue what he’s going to do. The only thing that him coming back says to me is that I’m going to die, and it’s going to be soon. I’ll run, but it won’t be soon before I’m too tired, or he breaks my legs, and I fall, helpless, before him, unable to run even to save my own life.”

“You’re not going to die, Baekhyun.” Yixing took his hand gently, and Baekhyun actually felt comforted by the contact, instead of repulsed. 

Baekhyun let out an emotionless laugh. “Trust me, as of now, I’m a dead man walking.”

If Yixing had said anything, it would have been too much. But Yixing was a boy who didn’t speak unless he knew it was right, and Baekhyun knew everything he was trying to communicate just through the innocently caring and genuine look in his brown eyes.


End file.
